Neither of Us is Winning
I sat in despair, carefully listening to the patient in front of me talk about his issues with
such difficulty, but it was progress nonetheless.
"I'm not making any breakthroughs am I?" He asked hopelessly. I tilted my head,
"Alex, asking for help is the biggest step towards recovery. I'm not gonna lie, it doesn't get much easier, but one day when you've overcome every single battle you've been fighting, you'd have succeedingly won your biggest desire as a human."
He shook his head, "What do I win? There's nothing on this Earth that I want."
"It's not about what you want, Alex. It's about what you need," I continued, "And wouldn't it feel nice to conquer and win back control over your mind?"
I kept going, "Winning, Alex. That's the point. You need to win control over yourself."
He shook his head again and stared at the floor. Scoffing, he fixated his eyes on mine, staring so sharply it made me shift uncomfortably. He lifted his head.
"What about you, Liz?"
"I'm sorry, what?" I leaned back, a habit I do when I feel endangered. But the more I leaned back, the more he leaned forward.
"Maybe we're not that different, hm?" He said with a sudden creepy smile. I felt the walls close in and my head got dizzy.
"I-I don't understand."
He fell silent for a beat.
"Neither of us is winning."
The sound of my alarm clock nudged me awake. I felt goosebumps all over my arms. I was quick to realise the bed was full of sweat as I altered myself to turn off the stupid non-stop buzzer. I threw myself back on my pillow and stared at the ceiling.
I've been a therapist for as long as I can remember. My job is to help people, but somehow. I still can't manage to help myself.
"Neither of us is winning."
"I'm not making any breakthroughs am I?" He asked hopelessly. I tilted my head,
"Alex, asking for help is the biggest step towards recovery. I'm not gonna lie, it doesn't get much easier, but one day when you've overcome every single battle you've been fighting, you'd have succeedingly won your biggest desire as a human."
He shook his head, "What do I win? There's nothing on this Earth that I want."
"It's not about what you want, Alex. It's about what you need," I continued, "And wouldn't it feel nice to conquer and win back control over your mind?"
I kept going, "Winning, Alex. That's the point. You need to win control over yourself."
He shook his head again and stared at the floor. Scoffing, he fixated his eyes on mine, staring so sharply it made me shift uncomfortably. He lifted his head.
"What about you, Liz?"
"I'm sorry, what?" I leaned back, a habit I do when I feel endangered. But the more I leaned back, the more he leaned forward.
"Maybe we're not that different, hm?" He said with a sudden creepy smile. I felt the walls close in and my head got dizzy.
"I-I don't understand."
He fell silent for a beat.
"Neither of us is winning."
The sound of my alarm clock nudged me awake. I felt goosebumps all over my arms. I was quick to realise the bed was full of sweat as I altered myself to turn off the stupid non-stop buzzer. I threw myself back on my pillow and stared at the ceiling.
I've been a therapist for as long as I can remember. My job is to help people, but somehow. I still can't manage to help myself.
"Neither of us is winning."
Maybe it's time for me to find some help.
